


Over a stolen gunshot

by laughingpineapple



Category: Ghost Trick: Phantom Detective
Genre: Companionable Snark, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-25
Updated: 2012-10-25
Packaged: 2017-11-17 00:44:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 764
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/545641
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/laughingpineapple/pseuds/laughingpineapple
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Part [early] of [story of their lives]. No vitals hit, the doctors said, the patient just needs rest.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Over a stolen gunshot

 

He was awake. His breathing had shifted from the regular rhythms of sleep, his eyelids were squeezed shut just a bit too tight.

Jowd shifted on his seat beside the hospital bed.

“Idiot.”

A sleepy, drawn-out mumble took its time just to make itself known before ending in “jerk”.

“I learn from the best.”

“No... no, baby, you're a natural. You could learn how to be less of an easy target.” Cabanela squinted, double-checked that he was really there, and went back to a satisfacted smirk with his eyes closed.

Jowd shrugged. “Then I'd need a 'best' around.” He observed the traces of blood that stained the fresh bandages, half wishing that one could push and twist a scolding stare just to prove a point. “I could have dodged just fine, had I not been pushed aside.”

“Yeah, yeah. The amazing sidestepping detective. Next thing I'll know, you were a ballerina back in the day.”

“Actually – wait, did Alma tell you?”

He scored a mental point as he got him to chuckle until the soft smile on his lips was twisted by the wound's stinging. Suited him well – with no need to resort to supernatural stares.

“Call it intuition. All the same. I am not”, Cabanela said, succumbing to a drowsiness that slurred his words, “risking your hide.”

Jowd frowned at his sleeping figure some more, still clinging to the delusion that his glares would get him some results, at least once he'd pass a certain threshold. Fifteen or twenty years down the line, maybe. He picked up his book and flicked through the pages until he found his fold mark, then went back to the beginning of the chapter he'd tried to read over and over again since he came to the hospital. The words finally started to make sense.

 

*

 

 

“Hello again, sleeping beauty. Work calls and it's not waiting for either of us, I was about to go.”

Or should have gone five minutes earlier to guarantee his usual ten minutes' leeway before his shift started, but he'd hoped to catch Cabanela awake one more time.

“What a looousy prince. I'm filing a complaint.”

“I'll be back tomorrow if you aren't planning on going anywhere. What's the prognosis?”

“Sweet, baby. As if the doctors hadn't told you already.”

“I need to hear it straight from the culprit's mouth. Spit it out.”

“Fine-tuning your pit stop strategy for the next promoootion? Don't count on an overtaking, you know.”

The nerve! Ah, the man was hopeless, always second-guessing him, as if Jowd was the one with a sketchy view of rules and regulations – yes, that too. Pretty far down the priority list, though.

“I need to know how much breath I can catch before I'm back to fearing news of your disastrous successes. One day, an explosion will be enough to stop you. Think of us if you can't think of yourself.”

Jowd ignored the sharp stare he got, focused through the painkillers and the haze, that spelled 'yeah, it's what I did.' Bad call, better to let it slide if Cabanela wasn't going to push it. Besides, he knew. He just needed time and calm to patch his thoughts around the double gaps of being ready to put his life on the line not just in the name of justice, but for someone, and of that someone going ahead and doing the same. Time was abundant. Calm, not as much.

“Haven't asked yeeet... what's life without a surprise or two, wouldn't you agree? But, baby –” Theatrical pause. Jowd made a mental note to put forward a motion to ban thatrical pauses, at least among the three of them. The effect was somewhat lost when all played the same game, not to mention that he and Alma weren't half as annoying. End theatrical pause with a wistful sigh. “I'll do my best to make it quick. I had no idea it was a sure-fire way to get you to say that you 'need' something. Twice. As soon as I'm out I'm doing it all over again until the novelty wears off.”

Did he really say– oh. Apparently, he realized, going over the last minute of conversation. Touché, although he'd reeled his point in with the grace of, well, a drugged man struggling to stay conscious on a hospital bed. Jowd could concede game and set, just for that once.

“As a man of the law, I am above hitting an injured man. Alma and Kamila, on the other hand, are visiting in a couple of hours. Change your tune for them or watch out.”

 

 


End file.
